


12 am

by LydiaOfNarnia



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: M/M, Sickfic, and i have such a weakness for nix taking care of dick, i just wanted an excuse to write sleepy cuddles, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 06:44:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10916472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LydiaOfNarnia/pseuds/LydiaOfNarnia
Summary: Dick can't sleep, and Nix has a responsibility.





	12 am

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at [renelemaires](http://renelemaires.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> This fic is based off of the portrayals from the Band of Brothers miniseries, not the real-life guys!

Nix sleeps like the dead most nights, but tonight has made it impossible. 

Normally Dick is a calm sleeper. He lies there like a stone, not tossing and turning, hardly moving except to breathe. On the rare occasions Nix finds himself awake when Dick isn't, he enjoys watching the other man sleep. Dick always looks so peaceful, as if all the worries have melted from his face. It makes him look years younger, and Nix often has to fight the urge to kiss him while he isn't awake to feel it.

Tonight, however, Dick can't sleep; and as a result, Nix can't either. Normally Dick has no problem getting to bed, but when he does he occupies himself otherwise -- he'll get work done, or read, something far too productive for the late hour. It's a better alternative to Nix's preferred method of drinking himself to sleep. There's no work to be done tonight either, however; Dick wouldn't be up for it if there was.

Finally, after the third time Dick accidentally kicks him in the hip with his squirming, Nix decides he's had enough. He stirs before lifting his head slowly, blinking at the other man in the dim light.

"Dick?" he says, making his voice husky and syrup-thick. "Whatcha doin' still up?"

Dick huffs a heavy sigh through his mouth, pushing himself further into a sitting position. His back is against the headboard; he doesn't look relaxed at all. "I know you've been awake, Nix," is all he says. Nix drops the act in a second; he won't lie to Dick if there's no point. The guilt he'd been trying to avoid clouds the other man's face anyway, as he tips his head back to rest against the headboard. "I'm sorry for keeping you up."

He sounds painfully stuffed up, and looks even worse. His skin is pale in the dim light; heavy bags decorate his eyes; and his mouth is open as he pants through it, unable to breathe past his congested nose. Every so often a deep, chest-rattling cough will escape him, only to be hastily silenced.

Dick has been wrestling with this cold for the past few days, but he's insisted he has it under control. Now, it's obviously catching up to him with a vengeance.

"How's your breathing?" asks Nix. Dick takes a deep breath through his mouth in response, and his boyfriend winces. "Huh. No fever, right?"

Dick makes a negative noise, but Nix checks just to make sure. His skin feels clammy, but not warm. "No chills? You don't feel dizzy, or nauseous?"

"It's a cold, Nix. Quit fussing, I'm fine."

"I'm not fussing." That makes him sound like a worried mother fretting over her baby -- and if there's one thing Nix should never be compared to, it's a responsible parent. He is not fussing over Dick, because Dick is a grown man who can take care of himself.

Dick is also absolutely miserable right now, unable to sleep as he gets hammered by a cold he tried so hard not to succumb to. Dick is also his boyfriend, which makes his comfort Nix's personal responsibility.

"You should take a pill," he says as he sits up himself, reaching out to draw Dick to his chest. The other man doesn't protest, simply moving as Nix pulls him. Nix's bare skin is a softer pillow than the headboard, anyway, and he watches as Dick makes himself comfortable. "It would help you breathe better. Might put you to sleep, too."

"I'm fine," Dick says. "I have work tomorrow."

Nix stops himself from laughing out loud. He knows there's no way Dick is going in to work tomorrow -- and judging from the hint of hopelessness in Dick's voice, he knows it too.

He takes to rubbing Dick's back gently, right in the spot that he knows the muscles always bunch up from stress. It doesn't take much pressure before his boyfriend is melting against him, residual tension draining from his body. Dick's eyes slip shut, and he makes the most content noise Nix has heard from him all night.

"Easy, tiger," Nix says gently. "We'll see how you feel tomorrow morning. For now, just try to get some sleep."

Nix knows he won't wind up sleeping himself tonight. This is far from unusual, but at least he has a reason this time. He busies himself with listening to Dick's wheezes, heavy and rasping through his mouth, and trying his best to soothe them as they follow his boyfriend down into sleep.


End file.
